The Northern Clemency
On a hot night in August in Sheffield, England, the Glovers give a dinner party with none of the guests of honor in attendance. The Sellers, their new neighbors and the ostensible reason for the party, aren鈥檛 moving in until tomorrow.
Katherine Glover鈥檚 boss, Nick 鈥� the real reason she put on a long blue dress and cooked such tempting delights as Coronation chicken and potatoes pin-cushioned with toothpicks of cheese, pineapples, and cold sausage 鈥� cancels at the last minute.
The following day, the Sellers move in and Katherine鈥檚 husband walks out, setting in motion the next two decades of the families鈥� lives. Philip Hensher鈥檚 The Northern Clemency, which was a finalist for the Booker Prize and chosen as Amazon鈥檚 Best Book of the Year, is so precisely rendered, one can easily imagine it becoming required reading for set designers everywhere.
Sheffield is best known to Americans from 鈥�Billy Elliot鈥� and 鈥淭he Full Monty,鈥� and the 1984 miners鈥� strike that plays pivotal roles in both of those movies is observed in the close detail that Hensher brings to everything from 1970s dinner party nibbles to women鈥檚 suits circa early 1980s. (Oh, the bows!)
However, fair warning: Almost no one on Rayfield Ave. dances (one character does take tango lessons, but he鈥檚 not very good) and very little wackiness ensues. In fact, the action that does occur over the course of 600 or so pages tends to be of the awful variety.
The day after her husband, Malcolm, doesn鈥檛 come home, Katherine Glover violates the central tenet of British stiff-upper-lipness (not to mention every rule of good parenting) by not only telling a complete stranger, Alice Sellers, what has happened, but by stomping to death her youngest son鈥檚 pet python, Geoffrey.
Tim, who was troubled even before his mother murdered Geoffrey, later becomes the target of unthinking sexual abuse by 15-year-old Sandra Sellers, who can鈥檛 get Tim鈥檚 older brother Daniel interested in her.
Those two actions lie dormant for several hundred pages, only to have the consequences finally erupt 20 years later on the other side of the world.
If you found Dickens or Tolstoy hard going in high school, you鈥檙e unlikely to enjoy the rhythms of 鈥淭he Northern Clemency.鈥� (There are no wars here to liven things up 鈥� unless you count a brief mention of the Falklands.)
Unless the prospect of a well-written paragraph or three on the making of a fish pie sounds pleasant, you鈥檙e likely to be, frankly, bored. Those giant 19th-century novels are some of my favorite comfort reading, and yet there were a few times during the reading of 鈥淣orthern Clemency鈥� when my mind wandered.
However, Hensher鈥檚 skill as a writer is just about immense enough to encompass the broad moral and sociological scope of his novel.
鈥淭he Northern Clemency鈥� changes viewpoints frequently, checking in with various Sellers and sundry Glovers (as well as their neighbors and co-workers) over the course of 20 years.
Hensher occasionally drops a character for years 鈥� sensitive Francis Sellers, for example, was AWOL too long for me, although I sure didn鈥檛 mind taking a break from self-absorbed Sandra.
But Hensher is less interested in the individual fates of these characters than in what their collective lives represent.
As Hensher details marriages, affairs, births, retirement, and illness, he is methodically painting a portrait of the changing face of northern England
from the Thatcher era to the early days of Tony Blair.
Tim becomes a teenage Marxist. His brother Daniel ends up owning a restaurant in a converted steel mill that offers retro-chic variations on the 1970s appetizers his mother once served.
鈥淭he Northern Clemency鈥� is big and detailed enough to call Dickensian 鈥� except that Dickens tried everything except charades and semaphore to make certain the audience got his message loud and clear.
Hensher is much quieter. He鈥檚 like a tour guide on a nature hike, pointing out a bird here, a leaf there 鈥� suggesting that perhaps one take a closer look at tree bark.
Ten miles later, you鈥檙e catching your breath at a summit you never knew you were approaching, realizing that this view was the point all along.
Yvonne Zipp regularly reviews fiction for the Monitor.
